Last One Standing
by GwendolenFairfax
Summary: The world is a lonely and dark place for a vampire after he has lost nearly all of his family. Sanity is a relative construct and sometimes only revenge keeps the pieces together. Rated M for violence and slash. Betaed by Kristen618.
1. Jokes And The Existence Of A HigherBeing

**Note: Okay, I rearranged the whole thing and Kristen618 revised it (Kristen, love ya for that!).**** I will be more than happy if you review my little story.**

**My vampires can be hurt physically and I don't always stick to the book.**

**No native speaker here, errors may occur.**

**Disclaimer: In this case I own nothing but the storyline and (perhaps) the words.**

**Last one standing**

**Chapter 1: Jokes And The Existence Of A Higher Being** _(EPOV)_

Bit by bit the roar that tingled not only in my ears but in my whole body faded away and my senses turned outward. The high, ancient firs rustled in the strong wind. Some small stones rolled and bounced downhill making low noises. At some distance a squirrel warned of the predator with loud, nervous squeaks. The rocks under my left hand were cold, covered with a little bit of soft moss, the ones under my right wet and warm. Lying on my back, some of them pierced slightly in my shoulders, while the rest of my back and body rested on the soft, wet and warm remains. The coppery odor of the blood drifted heavily around me, allowing me only to smell little of the earthy, fresh and somehow dark-green aroma of the wood that surrounded me. My tongue was still occupied with that copper, licking it from the front teeth and lips. Finally, I opened my eyes slowly and sunlight hit them. For a brief moment light was the only thing I saw, the frames of my vision only lightly colored in red, then my eyes adjusted and I could see the blue sky above me, the small clouds chasing over it.

You know, you can never rest when you are some kind of cruel joke that Mother Nature or God or biological coincidence created. Of course you know that a joke has to fulfill a purpose. When you are at a party, you tell a joke to amuse a girl or a boy or to lighten the mood, because laughter and humor are the keys to a human's mind and heart. Some philosophers say that humor is the only thing that distinguishes man and animals. I had time to read. And a joke creates humor through its punch line. My head starts spinning so I think it is better to stop writing like an imbecile and explain what I mean. The purpose of the joke that is my existence is not to evoke humor, but to prey. I am created as a predator and I cannot choose. Do not dare to laugh, because you humans can. You can choose to lie in the bloody, still warm remains of a deer and ignore the world around you, shutting away your senses. Probably you would not choose to lie in those remains in the first place, I admit, but I think you understand what I mean. But damn it, I cannot. Sometimes I think my senses have a life of their own and I have no control over them. They supply me with information relentlessly and therefore I cannot rest. And every time I look at my hands in the sunlight, I remember what the punch line is.

Lying there on my back in the sunlight, I lifted my hands and examined them. Though they were covered with dark blood, some of it dripping from my fingers onto my lips where my tongue caught it instinctively, I could still see the sparkle. I was a deadly predator that just killed a deer to survive, catching it in less than fifteen seconds, ripping its throat out, drinking its blood, shivering ecstatically because of the taste, its fading life, hearing and feeling the wild roar of the blood. And I sparkled like a statue created from the finest marble, like a fairy that some child's imagination brought into being. A short, slightly hysterical laughter bubbled up in my throat. It cut through the noises that nature made around me, seemed to silence it for a moment. It startled me, I flinched and then I burst into tears. They were all dead, their sparkle gone forever. The pain of the loss twisted my insides and I howled, trying to expel this pain from my body by causing another, different, seemingly more tolerable pain by hitting my knuckles against the rocks with all my strength. While the rocks slivered under my hands and pierced through my skin and my tears ran down my temples, shreds of memories invaded my mind. For a brief moment I knew that whatever pain I could cause myself would never be enough to dispel those memories and the blinding pain that followed them. When the memories washed over me, I was proven right.

Our house was on fire. Some of the firs that surrounded it, too. All the windows were shattered. Smoke poured out of them. Wild and agonized screams wavered through the grey and black air. The ground was wet from blood. Shadows in green army gear moved through the violent, unreal scene. I was too late. I found no one that would help us and now I was too late to help. Rosalie's shredded, but still beautiful body disintegrated on the dark ground to my left. Emmett's head was chopped of by a deadly sword, then his body fell lifelessly to the ground. I realized that the manlike shapes on the ground in the clearing that were filled with gore and contained some remnants of cruelly familiar, blood-soaked clothing were the rest of my family. I roared and lunged blindly at a man who held a big gun that flashed in the yellow fire, ignoring a sharp pain that pierced through my right side. I landed on his broad back and gripped his head, turning it sharply and snapping his neck. I heard the gunfire just seconds before another pain struck my body, lower this time. I turned around quickly, searching for the attacker, holding the dead man's body in front of me for cover. I was nearly surrounded. Not one attacker, but fifteen. Their faces cowardly hidden behind night vision devices, I could not see their eyes. I snarled, my body tense as a bowstring, working only on instinct. I have never been less human in my afterlife than in this moment. I wanted to kill, to bathe in the blood of the people that murdered my family and destroyed my home. I prepared to attack another man in green army gear, but then I saw something that grabbed my attention immediately. Behind the men that slowly tried to circle me, I saw Carlisle's face in the flickering of the fire. It was distorted with pain. He was covered with blood and open wounds. Three army men held him down, while another one raised a bloody sword. I screamed and Carlisle's sad, weary eyes searched the scene until they found mine. They widened and before the sword hit his neck, he desperately yelled, "Edward, run!" The animal in me roared, refused to obey, wanted to kill or die trying, but what was left of my sanity told me to respect the last wish of my father, to not fight a battle that I could not win. I realized I was the only one now that bore the name Cullen. And even if I did not want to save my own life, I had to save this name and all of the memories that it contained. And so I ran.

My tears had run dry. My roars had died. But I still lay on the ground in the clotting remains of the deer. Considering it, I indeed would say that you humans would vote against doing that. Yes, you can choose. But I am a predator and you must rely on army gear and dirty weapons. I rose slowly, ignoring the pain that your bullets had caused, thinking that I would give anything in the world for the ability to ignore the other pain. I must have been an unspeakable sight: Covered with blood – my own, that of the army man and that of the deer –, half naked, wild golden eyes, standing in the middle of a shredded cadaver in a wood somewhere in Washington. The wind brushed my blood-crusted hair and while I rubbed my eyes that were glued with tears and blood, I decided to go back to my former home and hold a funeral.

I moved without consciousness but with the excruciating pain that streamed like a river through my mind, letting my instincts guide me over crevices and through the deep wood, until my never sleeping senses told me that something was seriously wrong with the right side of my abdomen, my right calf and my left thigh. So I stopped next to a small spring that sputtered innocently over sharp rocks in the sunlight and looked down to identify the source of the momentary imperfection of my body. Although the upper part of my body was naked, I could not see anything that caused my weakness, because it was covered with dried blood, shreds of fur and miscellaneous dirt. Damn it, I could not remember where I lost my shirt. Had the army-men ripped it from me when I fled? Had I shredded it myself when the memories infested me? Had nature taken it from me? Considering the status of my ruined trousers I decided with strangely calm logic that the last alternative was probably the right one. Mother Nature was the delinquent. God, I had to stop thinking like a lunatic. I shuddered as I pondered that that was maybe what I was now: A lunatic. But I think as long as this idea frightens you, you are not. But I could almost hear my sanity breaking with tiny but violent noises. I shook my head, knelt down by the spring with now aching legs, ladled water with my hands and started cleaning the upper part of my body with cautious movements. The water of the spring turned pink instantly as I repeatedly dipped my hands in it. I scraped the dirt and fur off my body, but it seemed to take eternity. Maybe that was a punishment that some ancient Greek god entailed on me for being this joke that looked so insolently beautiful. Sisyphus had to roll a huge boulder up a hill throughout eternity and Edward Cullen had to clean his body from filth forever. But I could not serve this sentence because I had to honor the dead by holding a funeral and telling everyone that did or did not want to know that the name Cullen still lived. And I had to… I lifted my head abruptly and stared in the still blue sky. "Revenge," I whispered. And I could feel a vicious grin distort my features as my wrath manifested itself on the surface of my consciousness. I would make a plan, I would try to take revenge for my family and for me and either they or I or all of us would die.

In some way I managed to clean up the upper part of my body and was now able to see the deep bullet wound in my right side. It could not heal because the bullet was still stuck in my flesh. I gritted my teeth, condemned humans and their weapons and put my finger in the wound quickly to get ahold of the bullet. I growled, because it hurt like hell. Borrowed blood started streaming again, but finally I got it out. I carefully placed the bullet on an almost black, strangely shaped stone to my right and then got rid of the rest of my trousers. I cleaned my legs and extracted the bullets from my calf and my thigh, snarling in pain and blinking away tears. As ridiculous as it was I then washed the little pieces of metal that had been parts of my body not half an hour ago and I held them in my right hand. They shimmered in the sunlight on my sparkling skin. I closed my eyes and my fist, pressed it against my forehead and whispered, "Whoever or whatever created me shall be my witness, because this is a holy oath. Because of you my family had to die. Did you not know that humans hate deviance? That they destroy what they cannot comprehend? If you did not than you are an imbecile just like I am for talking to thin air and scared forest animals." I laughed hysterically, then continued, "But if you knew, why did you not save us? Why did you create us with sparkling skin and insatiable hunger that compels us to leave our shelter? You had to know that humans are intelligent and that they would see through our masquerade. We are predators and our strength is supernatural but they outnumber us by far. We do not stand a chance. We perish. We are alone. I am alone." I sobbed dryly and said hoarsely under my breath, "So I swear that I will follow only my own rule not yours. And this rule is revenge. I will not yield to morals or reason. I will not rest until the murder of my family is avenged. That I swear." I giggled madly about the fact that I sounded like some superhero from a Marvel Comic – I read that too – and still believed that a higher being existed that was responsible for all this misery. But then my giggle died and I knew that I had addressed no one other than myself with my speech. No higher being would cause such pain in my breast, so I decided that there could not be a higher being. Now I was truly alone.

I had folded the bullets and the strange black stone in a piece of fabric that was left over from my trousers and had left the spring. I ran naked and with inhuman speed through the wood, jumping over rocks and bushes. I would arrive at my former home at midnight. Suitable, I thought.

**Death Wish** _(JPOV)_

I hear the desperate screams of a woman and quickly jump off my… horse that prances nervously back and forth. While I hurriedly tie its reins to a crippled bush I survey the surroundings to find out… if there are any foes left. Yankees have obviously raided this… place not long ago. I suppress a violent shiver… as I only see corpses of the people who had inhabited the house that… burns. Flames. Smoke. _I can't see._ Screams of a woman. My guts twist as I feel her agony. _I know her. No, please. _I try to run. My legs won't move. Her agony increases, reaches its peak. A loud roar washes over me; I feel the skin of my face crack open. _Pain._ Then… Her agony is gone. _She is._ My mind splits into pieces. _If I die before I wake pray the lord her soul to take._

Darkness. Smell of fire and ashes._ I have to open my eyes. She needs me. Can't. She is... No, No, No…God, No, Please._ He tries to touch his face. His right hand doesn't move. His left does. _Scap. _Agony._ Eyes gone. She is. _He screams. Tries to. Breathless whimper comes out.

_Maybe the Yanks didn't kill everyone. I'm a major. I protect. I have to move. Can't too. _He knows he's not dead. He wishes he was. But he has his responsibilities. _Not allowed to die. _His hearing works. He hears footsteps. _Can't defend myself. Hush._ He lies motionless. Makes no sound. Doesn't have to breathe. _Why?_ He hears a familiar voice in the darkness. It curses God, then screams that there is no God. Memories come back.

He isn't Jasper Whitlock. He's Jasper Hale. And the voice. _Edward._ Edward is full of undistinguishable pain. _No clear thoughts._ He tries to call his name but his throat doesn't work. Just a puff of air. But abruptly Edward's attention is on him. He now senses blind rage, burning wrath. No recognition. _He will kill me. Please, Edward, do it._

He shouldn't have used his name in his thoughts. He sobs as he realizes that Edward heard them and now knows. _He won't do it._ _He knows I'm Jasper Hale. Doesn't matter, Edward. Kill me. Pretend you don't know._ He is too tired to force his will upon him. It never worked right anyway. He has to rely on his mercy and go on pleading. _Please, Edward, please do it, do it, do it. Because she's dead. So please. Do it._

Something touches his left hand carefully. But it hurts nevertheless. "Jasper." He knows that Edward won't comply with his wish, because he is too happy that he has found him. He can't speak because he can't part his lips. But he goes on in his mind. _Please, please, please._ Though he knows that he won't do it. When Edward slowly strokes his forehead and tears drop on his face, he stops his begging. He tries to reach out with his left hand and return the touch, but he can't see and his body won't obey him. He sighs. _I'm sorry._

But Edward knows what he wanted to do and gently takes his hand. He strokes Edwards's knuckles with his thumb. "You are alive. You are alive. Some other member of my family is alive," Edward says with a voice that is hoarse from tears. _I_ _shouldn't be. _

He senses that Edward pulls himself together, concentrates on what has to be done. Then Edward gasps and terror floods Jasper's mind, because that's what happens to Edward's. He moans full of pain, because he can't handle Edward's feelings at the moment. "Sorry, but your body is just…. Your condition is bad," Edward says with his trembling but still soft voice and locks away the terror in his mind. "I have to move you, Jasper. It is too dangerous here and I will have to hunt something down for you." _Perhaps they will come back. Leave me here. Let me die._ Edward snarls wildly and squeezes his hand painfully. "I will not let you die, Jasper. Erase this thought from your mind, because I will not allow that. You will live. Just like me. You will not leave me alone." He sobs again dispiritedly as Edward shoves his arms under his body and lifts him. The sudden pain overwhelms him. He loses consciousness. 


	2. Destiny

**Chapter 2: ****Destiny **_(EPOV)_

Obviously I was mistaken. As I carried Jasper in my arms, pressing his destroyed, limp body against my breast, I smiled calmly, because I was not alone. Someone would share this gruesome misery with me. You humans have this simple saying: A sorrow shared is a sorrow halved. Though I did not believe that my sorrow was halved, I thought that maybe a sorrow shared was as much as destiny would grant me.

My mind wandered to the distant place it seemed to prefer at the moment. When God or gods did not exist, then neither did destiny. The ancient Greeks, as well as the ancient Romans, believed in destiny. The Romans called it fatum. I cannot recall where I read this, but you can trust me, it is correct. Three goddesses took care of this fatum. The superstitious and – ha, examine this word closely – fatuitous Greeks named them Moirae, the Romans Parcae. They were destiny personified. When a human was born, they determined its destiny. There was no escape, no matter what endeavors the human shouldered. A human did not fulfill his destiny, it just was fulfilled. It may sound cruel to you and it surely leaves no room for this thing called free will. But to me the prospect of three goddesses who determined my fate – good or bad – seemed sweeter than honey at this instant. If destiny existed, I could wallow in my pain and condemn the goddesses who chastised me so unforgivingly. But there was no destiny, and so the responsibility for my own and Jasper's life rested like stones on my aching shoulders.

I came to a stop on a sharp cliff, the wood lying outstretched and reticent beneath my feet, and looked up in the sky. The full moon seemed to have captured nearly the entire firmament. It was almost obscene. I looked down and examined Jasper's blood-crusted, raw features. His eyes seemed to be burned out and the fire had sealed his lips. The remnants of his hair were adhered to his skull. It was horrible. "Jasper," I whispered, but there was no reaction. At this point, I panicked.

My mind spun and I lost all common sense. I knelt down hastily, tremulously placing his body on the ground, while tears dwelled in my eyes. I patted his cheek frantically, again whispering his name, then I started yelling, "Jasper, wake up. If you are dead, I will kill you." Wild giggles sputtered from my lips, tears from my eyes. "You son of a southern whore, do not dare leave me alone. I cannot be alone. God does not exist." This thought possessed me. I grabbed his shoulders with both hands and shook him violently. The back of his head bumped against the cold stones, but apart from that he did not move. I let go of his body, my mind raced about would I could do, my eyes desperately searched the surroundings as if the answer lay somewhere between the firs. Then I knew.

I bit my right wrist, the borrowed blood started to flow and I forced Jasper's mouth open with my free hand. His lips cracked with an awful noise, but it did not matter because now he was forced to yield. His instincts – just like mine – could not die. They would betray him and work for my benefit. I placed my wrist above his mouth and watched with wildly glowing eyes as the blood dripped between his lips. He winced like a man possessed, moaning, sobbing dryly once, then his left hand darted out and his fingers clasped around my right forearm, strong as iron. He pulled my wrist down and sunk his teeth into my flesh. He growled more aggressively than ever before and his dark, blood-crusted eyes opened abruptly. I flinched as I saw the ferocity and hatred in them, not understanding why he should hate me, but otherwise I did not move, while I felt the blood draining rapidly from my body. My visions slowly started to blur, but I could see that his features, as well as his burned and battered body, had already begun to heal. Flesh assembled itself morbidly, new skin began to grow. The borrowed blood of a vampire is the strongest remedy.

Suddenly Jasper sat up, wrapped his no longer broken right arm around the upper part of my body and pulled me close, his teeth still in my flesh. I could barely move, because a vampire does not function without blood supply. I could only hold myself up because of his arm that clamped tightly to me. So I just looked into his now strangely calm eyes. He let go of my wrist and leaned forward until his lips were only inches away from my ear. It was uncomfortable. I was frightened, because while I had only pondered about whether or not I had lost my sanity, I realized that Jasper was far beyond such thoughts. While I stumbled on the rim of the abyss, Jasper had fallen off. I shuddered helplessly. Jasper merely aspirated: "I hate you, Edward. No mercy for the merciless." Then he sunk his teeth deep into my throat.

**The Pact **_(JPOV)_

He feels Edward's blood stream down his throat, tastes the coppery, but sweet flavor. He knows the unique taste of vampire blood well, has savored it countless times. But the hatred that he has never felt before makes this moment inimitable. _You denied me mercy._ He claws his fingers into Edward's thick hair to hold him still, because he begins to struggle. _Too late, brother. Your blood is now mine._ Edward tries to push him away with both hands, but his movements are weak, no challenge for him. But something else is. So he tries to block the panic and the pain that Edward feels, because he knows that they could make him stop. "Jasper, cut it out. Please," Edward croaks, but he adamantly presses him to the stony ground with the weight and the growing strength of his body. He doesn't let go of Edward's throat. _You're not the only one who knows how to deny mercy. _He had learned that a long time ago. He remembers the humans he killed when he was a human soldier, he also remembers the humans and vampires he killed when he was an undead soldier. He had learned how to kill mercilessly despite experiencing his victims feelings so clearly. Just like he experiences Edward's now.

He's calm now though the agony in his heart is still there. The stream of blood gets weaker every second, but he won't stop, because he wants every little bit. Edward yanks his naked shoulders feebly, while he still grips his hair. He hears the agitated noises of the forest animals that witness him drawing the "life" out of Edward. Edward's motions die, his arms fall to his sides.

"Jasper," Edward's voice is merely a whisper, "we have to avenge them. We owe them revenge. Without it, they truly will cease to exist." His breathless voice becomes imploring like that of a priest, "You cannot accomplish this on your own. You will need my help. If you kill me now, Jasper, you will not be able to avenge them. This would be treachery." The last word floats heavily in the cold night air. But he doesn't stop stealing Edward's blood until her face pops into his mind. _Alice._ Her lips, eyes, hair. He hears her sweet laughter, smells her soft body. He pulls his teeth back and sits up. Edward's blurred eyes look at him, full of pain and pleading. He calmly examines the other vampire's appearance. Edward is naked and his body seems leaner than usual, almost scrawny. He sees dark patches where Edward has been wounded and takes in that Edward's hair is dull, rumpled and partly covered with crusted blood. The wound that he has caused in Edward's throat is deep and still bleeding, though the trickle of the red liquid ceases bit by bit. At least Edward's body won't pose a threat to him.

He stands up, turns his back to Edward and stares at the full moon. He once loved it. He thinks he won't love again. He tries to think clearly for a moment. It's difficult. _Alice. Revenge. Treachery. Fire. Flames. Ashes. Mercy. Agony. _The humans had killed her. He doesn't know how they had done it, because he had been unable to see. He had been useless. _Unable. Weak._ He can't undo it, but he knows now that he has something in common with Edward. _Revenge._ That is the most important thing at the moment. Everything else has to wait. He puts a finger on his lower lip and says quietly, forming the words slowly, "Edward… I'll kill you for your selfishness. No mercy. Not now… but someday. After we've had our revenge. Deal?" He turns again and looks Edward straight in the eye. Edward still lies on the ground like a rag doll, unable to move, but he returns his look. A strange smile plays on Edward's dry lips. _Don't know why_. His pain and his fear vanish. _Merciful relief_. Then he croaks, "We have a pact then."


	3. Take A Look Back

**Chapter ****3: Take a look back, Jasper.**

It was a cloudy day in Forks. And a lazy one too. While Edward and Alice had gone out shopping together, Jasper spent the evening playing a game of chess with Carlisle in the living room. He sat in his chair with a straight back, wearing simple black slacks and a dark blue, long-sleeved shirt. His bare feet touched the soft rug that they had placed under the coffee table. Carlisle had leaned forward, his elbows were resting on his knees and he had put his fingers to his lips, looking thoughtful.

Esme was there too, but standing in front of the huge window with an easel in front of her. Her head was tilted while she drew an unusual shaped fir. Sometimes she knit her brows which caused Carlisle to smile softly and absentmindedly. Rosalie and Emmett were in Rosalie's room. Jasper didn't know what they were doing up there, but it surely was something beautiful, because he sensed only love and happiness. He and Carlisle could spend hours playing chess, because time was a relative construct for them both. So while Carlisle mused over his next move, Jasper let his mind wander.

Yesterday he and Alice had a long conversation about the new girl in school, Bella Swan. He listened attentively while she told him everything she knew about Bella. Her eyes shone like that of a child who had just seen its first Christmas tree. While she spoke, she sat on his lap and let her small fingers run excitedly through his golden hair. He loved that. Finally she giggled, gave him a peck on his nose and said, "You know, my Jasper, that Edward has lost his little heart to Bella." Jasper already knew that Edward was beginning to fall in love with this girl, but he didn't want to cut Alice off or show off with his ability. He never wanted to. "They had dinner tonight and she found out that he can read minds. Smart girl. We will be best friends. We'll talk about everything and have makeovers." He smiled teasingly and murmured, while nuzzling her neck with his lips, "More makeovers, my Alice? Can't you just skip that part?" She laughed, then grinned devilishly and stated, "Maybe someday you'll get one. I mean, just look at your…" Her voice trailed off and she got that far away look that told Jasper she was having a vision. He remained silent which was an easy task for him and waited, examining her face. She blinked eventually and looked at Jasper with a serious expression. He felt that she was worried, but seemingly her vision had not been too bad. "Bella is really smart, you know. She just realized that we're vampires. Tomorrow she'll talk to Edward about it. He won't be happy," she said, frowning. "He'll tell her he's afraid that he'll harm her." She snorted indignantly. "God, he's such a dumb-ass sometimes." Jasper brushed a strand of hair back behind her ear and asked calmly, "Will you tell him?" She sighed frustratedly, "No, silly, of course not. It could change everything. I won't tell him, I'll take him shopping. Tomorrow, when he comes back. Perhaps that'll lighten his mood." Jasper nodded lightly, though he thought that maybe some simple jokes would work just as well, perhaps even better.

So that was what Alice had done. When Edward had come back from school today, testy like a cat, she had grabbed his hand and pulled him to his Aston Martin. Edward had complained loudly, but finally he had given in.

Carlisle's calm voice startled Jasper out of his thoughts, "It is your turn, Jasper." Jasper focused his eyes on the board in front of him and nodded slightly. Esme turned her gaze away from the fir and her canvas and looked at Carlisle. "Darling, can you please call Alice and tell her to bring back some black paint for me? It is almost used up." She smiled at Jasper and added, "As long as you can spare Carlisle for a moment." Jasper smiled lightly and said with a voice that was always composed, "Sure, Esme. It gives me time to rethink my strategy. My victory will be glorious." Carlisle raised an eyebrow, pretending to be deeply shocked, then smiled and picked up the cell phone. As soon as he had dialed Alice's number, they clearly heard a ringing from the kitchen where Alice must have left her cell phone behind. Esme laughed. "What was she doing in the kitchen?" Jasper answered, quirking the corner of his mouth, "She likes the kitchen. I think it's the color." He looked at Carlisle, "Try Edward's." But since Edward had his phone in his book bag and the bag was still in the living room, it seemed that Esme was going to have to get along without the extra paint. Jasper and Carlisle continued their game until the sun began to set. It was a lazy and easy-going day.

Just as Jasper and Carlisle reached a stalemate, they heard the roaring of Edward's Aston Martin. As soon as the roaring had died, Jasper knew that something terrible had happened. Alice's mind radiated fear like the sun radiated heat. He jumped up, knocking over the coffee table, causing the board and the chess pieces to fly on the rug. The door was pushed open and Alice hurried through, her eyes wide with panic, the skin of her face even paler than usual. Carlisle and Esme flinched, instantly knowing that something was horribly wrong. Jasper rushed to Alice's side, took her hand and looked at her closely to check if she was harmed in any way. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief when he couldn't detect anything. "Bella told one of her friends – Jessica something – about us and the girl has alarmed some government agency. They're coming. Edward is trying to find somebody who will help us. We've got to go." Alice said with a shaky voice. But Jasper could already feel that it was too late. A bunch of tense humans were rapidly surrounding the house, their minds full of violence. Too many for him to handle. "They're here," he whispered, then shouted in the general direction of the first floor, "Rosalie, Emmett, down here! We're under attack!" They were at his side in an instant. He looked at Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie and Emmett, then turned to Alice, who returned his look with wide eyes, squeezed her hand tight and ordered them all with the commanding voice he had gained on the battlefield, "We have to flee, there are too many and they'll be armed!" As if the humans wanted to prove his words, they all heard gunfire and the shattering of the windows on the first floor. "The house is a trap! Get out! Spread out! Move fast and fight only if you can't avoid it!" He again squeezed Alice's hand, the windows of the living room splintered as the soldiers fired at them, and then they all ran. He decided to try to escape through the shattered windows, hoping that he would be too fast for the guns. That was his mistake. As the lights went out, he hurried to the holes where the windows had been, and then something metallic landed in front of his feet. For Jasper, the day ended as the grenade exploded.

**Take A Look Back, Edward.**

The Aston Martin was speeding down Highway 101 that cut through Olympic National Forest and back to Forks. The highway was empty and Alice and Edward had just passed Lake Crescent. It would take another 30 minutes to arrive home. The sun was clouded and already sitting low, so it was rather dark. Alice had taken the wheel, after she had decided that Edward was in no condition to drive. After complaining testily about Alice forcing him to go shopping with her, Edward had fallen silent on the way to Port Angeles, driving the car like some madman. He also hadn't said a word while they paid visits to three different clothing stores and one book store, freaking out the staff by staring at them with fiercely glowing eyes. Alice hadn't commented on his behavior and had just acted as usual. She knew Edward well and sometimes one had to wait 'til he was ready to open his heart. The moment had now arrived.

"It was horrid, Alice." Edward's voice was agitated. "I wanted her blood so badly I nearly jumped her. I told her. But she didn't listen. She said she trusted me." He smiled joylessly. "As if you could trust a killer." Alice reached out and touched Edward's left hand softly, looking at him with compassion in her big eyes. He returned her look, then he exhaled with a gush, beat the passenger door angrily with his right fist, leaving an impression, and exclaimed desperately, "As soon as I let her close, I'll harm her! I'll rip her throat out, or break her ribs, or drink her dry! She's so fragile and helpless. She's so damn clueless. She doesn't know what she's getting herself into. I'll kill her." Alice immediately pulled the car over, stepping on the brakes abruptly so that they protested with a sharp squeal, and turned to her side to face Edward as soon as the car had stopped completely. As he tore at his hair almost violently, causing it to point in all directions, she gripped his shoulders resolutely, "Edward, take it easy. You blame yourself for something that hasn't even _happened_ yet. You managed really well 'til now, don't you think? Maybe the girl isn't as clueless as you think and maybe she knows more about you than you want to admit. She believes in your self-control. Bella's smart, Edward. She has found out everything about us on her own. You got to give her credit for that." Edward moaned and cut her off by saying, "Yes, but being intelligent doesn't mean that you make wise decisions. I know she's smart, but she nearly got herself raped in Port Angeles by running around alone in the middle of the night. That's insane, Alice. She's crazy. I have to protect her. Even if that means that I can't have her." Alice shook her head in disbelief and responded in her musical voice, "God, I hope you know how self-centered you sound. And are, Edward! It's all about _you_ being a killer, _you _knowing what's best for her,_ you_ having to protect her,_ you_ everything. You've got to allow her to take responsibility for her own decisions. It's the 21st century, Edward, nowadays women take care of themselves." Her voice became soft as she saw the devastated expression in his eyes and she gently flattened his black cashmere pullover where her grip had rumpled it, "Edward, the question you have to ask yourself is this: Will you ever be happy without her? And if the answer is no, then you have to try to be with her. Eternity is a very long time to be unhappy, you know? Promise me you'll think about it." She smiled softly. Edward sighed quietly and then nodded.

Just as Alice was about to move the car off the side of the road, her eyes became glassy and unfocused. She had a vision. Edward's eyes widened as he saw what she saw:

A girl – Jessica something – was in her room – cream-colored wallpaper, white bed, light blue sheets, small desk, big closet, bright light –, holding a cell phone to her ear, pacing around nervously and shouting hysterically, "Finally! Thank God! Listen, I told the story a hundred times by now! I'm not crazy, you have to believe me! A girl named Bella Swan told me. Vampires exist. They live in Forks and their last names are Cullen and Hale. You got to help us. They'll kill us all. Call the National Guard, the CIA, just call anybody!"

Men in dark army gear moved through the forest silently, adjusting their equipment, getting ready to attack. There were a bunch of them.

Their house was on fire. Some of the firs that surrounded it, too. All the windows were shattered. Smoke poured out of them. Wild and agonized screams wavered through the grey and black air. The ground was wet from blood. Shadows in green army gear moved through the violent, unreal scene.

As soon as the vision was over, Alice started the car and began speeding down the highway, causing the engine to whine, her eyes wet with tears, while she simultaneously searched the pockets of her brown coat for her cell phone. Her voice trembled as she said, "I forgot to take it with me. Yours?" Edward shook his head dazedly. They drove in paralyzed silence for over 10 minutes, both staring at the road in front of them, then Edward shook his head like he was waking himself up, "Pull over. I'll try to get some help. Perhaps the wolves…" His voice was tense, shaking with suppressed rage and fear. Alice immediately stopped the car with screeching tires. Edward gave her a hasty kiss on the cheek, looked in her eyes that were still filled with tears, murmured "Love you", got out of the car and ran through the forest as fast as he could. The sun had finally set.

The wolves hadn't wanted to help them. They had almost killed Edward when he reached them 10 minutes later. He hadn't really listened as they argued that they didn't want to be killed while defending their worst enemy, that they didn't want to draw attention to themselves. Instead he had started running again, determined to defend his family. He hadn't known that he would be too late.


	4. The Subjective Relevance Of Moments

**Chapter 4****: The Subjective Relevance Of Moments In Time And Space** _(EPOV)_

That had been the moment when my life turned upside down, with emphasis on "down". There are some moments that just pass by – this had not been one of them – and they do not seem to influence your life. This, however, is an illusion. Every moment in time – and space – has an impact on your life, but they are distinguished from one another by the subjective relevance of the impact. By "moment in time and space" I mean one segment of the sum of the events on earth. And even events that occur in a far away place can affect your life. At least that is what the followers of the Chaos Theory believe. They say that even the flap of a butterfly's wings in Brazil might set off a tornado in Texas. I am lecturing again, I know. But when your whole world shatters around you and you have eliminated the existence of God, gods and – what is just consistent – destiny, you begin to ask yourself how and all of this could have happened. Even if it drives you crazy.

So while I was lying on the cold stones, my body aching, exhausted and almost hollow, my mind rotated feverishly around this question. I tried to reconstruct the chain of events that led to this situation. If I had not wanted Bella so bad and if she had not had any interest in me, she would not have wanted to find out the truth about us and therefore would not have told Jessica about us and therefore Jessica would not have called the government. And therefore this nightmare would not have happened. Maybe. I squeezed my eyes shut. If we had not moved to Forks or she had not moved to Forks or Jessica's parents had not decided to have children, then maybe this would not have taken place either. And just maybe Jasper would not hate me so much that he wanted to kill me. Yes, I also thought about the prospect of Jasper trying to kill me at some point in time. Some part of me welcomed this idea, wanted to die so that the thinking and aching would finally be over. But the other part wanted to live, desperately. I did not even know why. Damn it, my head hurt. If Alice and I had not forgotten our cell phones… If I had told Bella that we could be together… If Carlisle had not turned me into a vampire… If I were paraplegic… If humans were as intelligent as mice… And maybe, if the butterfly had not flapped its wings…

Jasper's odd thoughts awoke my mind from this vertiginous spiral. He had turned his back to me again, had folded his arms in front of his chest and stared at the humongous moon. His hair, which had already grown back, was illuminated by the light. I doubt that any telepath, no matter how insane, could ignore thoughts like, _Looks like a shining coin. Looked like a silvery sea once. Wanted to drown in it, because it was so beautiful. Wanted to drown in her eyes. Alice. Smoke and ashes. Annihilate me, Father Moon. I'll kill you, brother. _I shivered and knitted my brows. It was so disturbing… and sad. It was just pitiful. But I also felt a sudden affection for him, because though it seemed as if he had lost his sanity completely, I still had a place in his deranged consciousness. I still affected him. Somebody still thought about me, remembered me. Even if this somebody just thought about killing me. I nearly cried for joy.

Jasper turned, tilted his head and looked at me with an almost inquiring expression in his now golden eyes. I saw no hatred in those eyes. As if our pact had settled everything to a point where he could cast aside his odium for me. Now it was just a fact: He would kill me someday. He could now concentrate his emotions on something different. He parted his lips, but it took a moment before his composed voice actually sounded and he paused in between the sentences as if he could not quite remember the words. "I don't understand why you're so happy, Edward… Why is that?" He lowered his arms, took two steps forward, knelt down at my side, his back straight, his movements fluid, and placed a cold hand on my temple, staring in my eyes. I still could not move, so I just returned his look and pictured how strange this scene would have looked from the outside. Two pale and naked young men on a cliff in the middle of the night. Surrounded by a deep forest, illuminated by the silvery and surreal light of the full moon. One of them lying motionlessly, battered and bruised. One of them kneeling, pressing a palm against the other one's temple with an uncomprehending look in his otherwise calm eyes. Both more beautiful than any human being. Truly epic, do you not agree? I giggled dryly at this vision. Jasper knitted his brows and whispered, "Why... are you laughing? I don't understand you anymore, Edward." He raised his hands slowly and pressed them against his own temples, rocking himself back and forth once. Damn it, I had never seen Jasper in such a fragile condition before, nor even imagined that he could get in this state. I felt responsible for his condition because I was the one who had forced the life back into his veins. I had shown no mercy. And although he wanted to kill me for that, the hatred was not mutual. He was still my family, or all that was left of it, and I loved him for that. The bond between us was deep. So I said, my voice soft and quiet, "I apologize, Jasper. Do not trouble yourself, because even I do not understand myself anymore... But I will try to control my emotions." Despite the fact that my whole body protested in pain, I raised my hand and placed it on his thigh carefully, trying to calm him down.

Something strange and disturbing happened. _Like Alice's._ Another one of those moments. _Edward's hand._ The touch felt good. _Feels good._ Again I did not understand what led to this incident. _Don't touch me._ I winced violently. _Don't stop touching me. _I began to stroke his thigh hesitantly. _Why?_ And looked into his wide, golden eyes as he lowered his hands.

**Only Sight Betrays **_(JPOV)_

He places one hand on Edward's. Lowers his eyes to look at them. For a moment he sees her under his hand. _Smaller. Softer._ _Please spare me the memories, Father Moon._ He's afraid to look up, because maybe he'll see her eyes. So he closes his and tries to focus on the sensation only. _Grant me distraction._ It's difficult, because his mind is still occupied with memories, agony and incomprehension. _Come on. Touch, smell, hearing, taste. Only sight betrays._ The hand on his bare thigh is slightly calloused, but touches him gently. The tips of the fingers trace the corded muscles under the skin. Edward shivers, contracts his muscles instinctively. He pushes away the face that appears in his mind. Her face. He concentrates on Edward's feelings so that he is able to resist the urge to give in to his memories. _Once I'm there, I won't come back. Then…no revenge. Treachery._ Edward can't comprehend what he's doing. He's confused and full of incredulous amazement. But at the same time he's delighted. He knows that Edward hasn't yet decided if he wants to continue touching him. But he wants him to, and so he strokes the back of Edward's hand slowly. _Keep going. Please. Grant me distraction._ Then he leans forward and takes a deep breath. He doesn't have to open his eyes, because he knows that his nose is only inches away from Edward's chest. Edward quivers as his hair brushes his skin. He smells of aromas which aren't his own: blood, earth, smoke. But underneath it all is the uniqueness he had sensed, but never cared for before. _Nutmeg and patchouly._ Edward's hand slides down to his knee. He listens. He hears the forest. _Doesn't matter._ He hears Edward's hand stroking his knee slowly._ That does._ He stops for a moment. Continues touching, smelling, hearing. Wallows in the sensations. Then he licks Edward's skin and tastes. Edward sighs lightly. He still senses confusion, but the enjoyment gets stronger. Edward's skin is tangy. Like his smell.

She is still there. _Not enough._ So he shifts, his eyes still closed. He won't open his eyes. And covers Edward's body with his own, straddling his hips. They lay flush, dead chest against dead chest. Edward doesn't move. His hand disappeared when he shifted. He nestles his cheek against Edward's shoulder, rubs it slightly against the skin. He hears his own hoarse voice saying, "Touch me." Edward trembles exhaustedly as he lifts his right arm slowly and wraps it around his back. He clings to the sensations of Edward – _Touch, smell, hearing, taste _–, because though he has betrayed him and Jasper will kill him for that, he's all that keeps him from drowning in the lost past. And his taste is sweet. An afflicted moan comes from Edward's lips and he whispers, "Damn it." _Have you heard me? Doesn't matter. Don't stop touching me._ And Edward doesn't and stops thinking.

He rubs himself against Edward and inhales deeply. Edward strokes his back, but when Jasper licks his throat, the wound he caused, he claws his fingers in his shoulder and sucks his breath in sharply. His hands don't touch Edward; he has placed them on the stony ground on either side of him. But he proceeds licking Edward's throat, causing him to claw his shoulder as hard as he can, to shiver and shake, searching for the spot where the smell and the taste are the strongest. He's ecstatic when he finds it and presses his lips against it. He senses Edward's wild arousal. Hears him growl. Realizes his own arousal. Now he can't help but remember her. He remembers all the times they shared delight and ecstasy. He sobs. It's not enough. _God._

He looses it for a moment, but suddenly a new sensation drags him out of the stream of memories. It's overwhelming, impossible to ignore. Unknown tightness, heavy friction. He hears Edward grit his teeth, moan in pain. And sheer, animalistic ecstasy. He feels Edward pierce the skin of his shoulders with his finger nails. He groans, sobs almost. _Finally._ Her face is gone. He moves his hips instinctively and buries himself to the hilt. It hurts, but that's good, because that makes it all the more impossible to forget who it is between his thighs. Edward's legs are wrapped around his hips, his fingers clawed in his shoulders. He pauses so he can experience the sensation to the fullest. But then Edward writhes helplessly under him and whispers with his soft voice, moaning," Jasper, I beg you. Please move!" So he supports himself on the ground and moves. He leans down, his eyes still closed, breathing heavily – just like Edward – and licks the spot on Edward's throat. Edward gasps, growls wildly, shivers convulsively, the tightness gets even tighter and then the ecstasy reaches its peak and washes over him. Distraction granted.


	5. Weird Scenes Inside The Gold Mine

**Chapter 5: Weird Scenes Inside The Gold M****ine** _(EPOV)_

Yes, indeed one of those moments. A subjective impact as big as the sun.

But when I looked inside Jasper's fragmented mind and realized that this contact was just his way to eliminate the memories of Alice, I was shattered. Our motives were not even approximately the same. Something had arisen in me. I still cannot comprehend how that was even possible, despite the fact that I missed them so desperately, that I had gone through and was still in godless hell. But I wanted him. Not distraction, not oblivion. Just him. For a millisecond I felt cruelly abused, endlessly guilty and absolutely good at the same time. Then I decided to not care – I could barely contain myself anyway – and ceased thinking. I just chose to want him.

In some way it was an out-of-body experience. The confusion that made my mind spin, the pain which scorched my body, the raging pleasure which followed the pain, the loss of blood, the surreal light of the moon. Everything melted together. My mind floated in a dark and infinite sea, frightened and delighted at the same time. For a moment I did not know if I would ever reach familiar shores again. I had never been in a comparable state before.

"_Weird scenes inside the gold mine."_ I had time to listen to The Doors, too.

But as I told you before, the senses of a vampire never sleep. And they forced me, relentless as always, to stay in my body and experience that what was happening. I think that they did me a favor this time.

I felt him moving fervidly inside me, producing unknown pain, unknown pleasure eventually. I felt his tongue licking my throat he had sensitized by wounding me. I touched and clawed the cold skin of his shoulders as I writhed under him.

He smelled of honey.

I heard him groan, sob out of sheer relief. I heard myself growl wildly. I listened to the noises our bodies made together.

I tasted coppery blood as I bit my lower lip uncontrollably.

And I saw him. He did not see me, but I saw him. Hovering above me, his eyes closed tightly. Illuminated by the bright light of the full moon. The strands of his honey-colored hair concealing his features, moving with every thrust. I watched him as he bared his teeth. I saw him tremble.

I wished he would open his eyes. I begged him silently. But he did not comply.

I lost consciousness when I reached the climax, the pain and the bone-breaking ecstasy being too much for my weak and exhausted body.

When I awoke, the sun stood high in the heavens. It was another sunny day. I looked my body up and down. Ha Ha. Aside from the sparkle, it did not look good. I could count the tears and wounds, which your weapons had caused, that were not entirely healed. The right side of my abdomen, my right calf and my left thigh still hurt where the bullets had struck. But you know, a vampire's perception of pain is different from a human's. At least when it comes to physical pain. In this regard we have a higher threshold of pain.

I have not been human for a long time, so I am not certain, but I think that our perception of mental pain also differs from yours. Even if you are not thinking about it all the time, and even if some of you do not think about it at all, you know that your life is ridiculously short. You see how technology develops and evolves faster than you can track it, you elect president after president, you notice how fast your children grow and the wrinkles on your mother's neck and all of it reminds you that your life is short and that you will die. Sooner or later. You are so fragile and you know it. That is the reason why you procure life insurance and make your will at the age of 50. Yes, you incur mental pain when your lover cheats on you; you suffer when someone you love dies. You suffer hard, you think you cannot endure it, but in your beating heart you know that the pain gets weaker after some time. Maybe it does not disappear, but you can be happy again. You say that time heals all wounds. But the truth is: Your short time heals all wounds. You just do not have the time to be unhappy, because you know that every day could be your last. So you are gifted with the ability to shift your focus, to deny and to repress. It is natural for you. The essence of human time is change. In all respects.

The essence of ours is not. Time is a relative construct to us. The world changes around us, but we do not. The changes just remind us of our immortality. We go from one status to the other only when we willfully choose to do so. When you know that you cannot die and you know that you do not change, then you know that the pain can last forever. Believe me, that intensifies the perception of it. We cannot shift our focus, we cannot deny and we cannot repress. We have to fight the pain willingly.

Which brings me back to Jasper.

I lifted my eyes, but he was nowhere to be seen. I panicked. Again. I tried to raise the upper part of my body by bracing myself on the ground, but even if I had been strong enough to do so, the violent tremble, which had captured me, would have impeded it. "Jasper," I whispered, then yelled, over and over. My voice cut through the air like a sword. The forest fell silent, the birds stopped singing, the wind died. If I had not been so desperate, I would have noticed. But I was lost in the agony of being alone again.

Finally he appeared between the firs and I stared at him with wide eyes. It was really him. And I was happy again. Frightening happy considering the things that had happened. I smiled at him. He looked at me with an inquiring expression. No, he was not happy to see me and no, he did not understand why I was. Yesterday I had decided to not care. I had decided that I wanted Jasper. That I would not give in to the pain. And therefore it had subsided. But he was not in the state where he could decide anything as grave as this. He was still in the ghastly version of Never Never Land. Killing me would not cause his pain to cease. It nearly broke my heart.

He was dragging a deer, which still lived but could no longer flee because of its broken bones. He had obviously broken into some store because though his blue cashmere pullover was already stained with blood, I could see that his black jeans and his black Dockers were new. I also detected a red backpack on his shoulders. He stopped at my side, looking down at me with golden, calm eyes. I had never seen Jasper naked until yesterday, neither had he seen me. And I thought that after what had happened between us, I would have shown some kind of reaction, if I had seen his naked body again. But he did not even seem to notice, nor care that I lay on the ground in front of his feet completely bare. "You have to eat, Edward… You're weak," he said quietly and placed the quivering, wailing deer on my chest without further ado. I took a deep, sighing breath, wrapped one arm around the animal, sank my teeth into the deer's throat and drank. No, he had not decided anything other than that he would kill me some day. And maybe he never would. Why did I have to fall for him? Yesterday only Bella had been in my mind. I knew that it was highly possible that I would get lost for good. That his pain would tear me down. But it felt good beyond comprehension. It was bizarre.

**Reconnaissance **_(JPOV)_

He watches Edward lower his eyes as he drinks with a low growl. Edward does that, because it's a private moment. The legs of the deer twitch. Jasper remembers hunting together with him and the others. Its movements die. But they always drank alone. He lays the backpack down on the ground._ We didn't want to see the beast in the mirror._

He'll talk to Edward about the plan as soon as he's finished drinking. He waits calmly. It's not in his nature to be impatient. _Jessica. Bella. Soldiers._ _The informer. The foolish. The executive. _He'd time to think about it when he had organized the things they needed. He's good at organizing. He'd learned it when he was a soldier in the army of the Confederates. As a major, he had had to ensure the supply of his battalion. _Steal. Rob. Threaten. Coax._ Coaxing had been his strength. He'd been aware of his good looks and his charisma and he hadn't liked to force civilians into anything, even if they had been Yanks. Countless times he had tried to use both his looks and his charisma to convince civilians – mostly farmers – to hand over a part of their food at those times when the soldiers of his battalion had nearly starved to death, exhausted and weary because they had run out of supplies again. He hadn't been successful every time, but it had worked pretty well considering the circumstances.

He smoothes his pullover and scrapes some dried blood off absentmindedly. All of that had changed after he'd become a vampire. On the one hand, he still didn't like to force anybody into anything and his empathy had repelled him to do so even more. But on the other hand the animalistic violence that had been and still was inside him since his transformation became a driving force of his actions, too. And so he gained the ability to threaten. _Empathy and bestiality._ It's a difficult task to balance these two… a fragile balance. Since his family is dead, he can't balance it anymore.

He isn't sure, but he thinks he might've scared the teen boy in Beaver to death last night. Jasper had broken into the house through an open window and had crept through the rooms, silent like the Black Death. He needed a computer with internet access to reconnoiter the enemy. He had finally found one in the dark room of the teen boy. He had sneaked inside, closing the door behind him soundlessly, relying on his supernatural senses in the darkness. The boy had lain in his bed, sleeping tightly. He had crouched above him and the boy had awoken with a panicked flinch as Jasper had clamped his mouth shut with one hand. He had stared at Jasper with wide eyes, his chest raising and lowering heavily. Jasper had returned his look firmly and he had heard his own voice say coolly, "I'll kill you if you move or scream, boy. I'll rip your throat out and roll in your viscera once you're dead. So don't." He had felt the boy's sheer horror. First he had started to tremble violently, tears in his eyes, and then he had passed out. While Jasper had used the computer, the boy had remained unconscious and he hadn't cared to check if he were dead. If the boy had moved or screamed, he wouldn't have rolled in his viscera, but he would've ripped his throat out without hesitation.

Suddenly the wind shifts and carries a familiar smell. _Nutmeg and patchouly._ He samples the air without moving. _Sweet._ Edward is the source of the smell. Something inside him shivers. He doesn't know why. _You can't win a battle without reconnaissance. _He has to find out why Edward's smell makes some part of him shiver. He tilts his head and examines Edward intensely. He is hunched over the deer and the muscles in his slender shoulders are tensed under the white, bare skin. His arms are wrapped around the dying animal, he holds it in his lap and presses it tightly against his chest. His bronze, messy hair shines in the light of the sun, his body sparkles. His eyes are narrowed and the color of the iris changes slowly from black to golden. His teeth are burrowed deeply in the cervical artery of the deer. His lips touch the hazel fur of the animal and are red with blood. Jasper hears him swallow and growl in the back of his throat.

The growl makes him remember last night. The thing that had happened before he took off. The merciful relief he had felt. While they had… _Fucked._ His eyes widen and now he sees the marks on the stony ground on either side of Edward's body, that he has made with his clawed fingers. He notices the blood between Edward's thighs. _With Edward?_ He doesn't understand how it had come to that. He frowns intensely. We wanted distraction, he needed it. _Touching wasn't enough. But why did we fuck?_ He starts pacing back and forth like an animal in a cage, deeply alarmed. Edward's concerned voice sounds quietly, "What has come over you, Jasper? Is something wrong? Aside from the obvious, that is?" He barely recognizes the sarcasm in Edward's last words. He stops dead, turns to face Edward, who has shoved aside the corpse of the deer and is sitting straight up, folds his arms behind his back and asks, "Have I forced you, Edward?" He realizes that his voice is not as composed as it usually is. It trembles. Just like his hands. Edward's golden eyes widen and he seems to be shocked. He shakes his head vehemently, but answers in a soft voice, "No, you have not, Jasper. Do not worry. I took the initiative after your mind nearly crumbled to pieces. It appeared to be the only way to yank you back to reality. Alice…" Edward's voice trails off. "That's the reason why?" he asks. Edward nods without hesitation. Jasper tilts his head and pierces Edward with his eyes. Something's odd. Edward seems strangely calm and composed about what has happened. So he tries to feel what Edward feels. _Nothing._ He stares at Edward with inquiring eyes and whispers," What have you done? I don't sense anything." Edward returns his stare and hisses through gritted teeth, "I have shut myself off, Jasper. I do not rummage around in your thoughts anymore and from now on, you will not peer into my mind, either." "How've you done that? Why?" Jasper wants to understand, because everything is so mixed up. But Edward doesn't want to reconnoiter and replies harshly, "I will not tell you, Jasper. It does not matter." Then he gets up, his chin raised, his arms folded in front of his chest, and asks impatiently, "Have you stolen clothes for me as well?" Jasper doesn't answer for a moment, just looks at Edward questioningly, slightly desperate, then he points his eyes towards the backpack. Edward takes a deep breath as he goes to the backpack and picks it up. _Edward, answer me._ No reaction. _Please._ Nothing. He lowers his head and flexes his jaw muscles, while Edward chooses his clothes and puts them on. All the clouds in his head deter him from thinking clearly, from connecting facts. He fights to remain even rudimentary focused and finally he manages to say, "I made a plan. First… Jessica. The informer." He looks up and sees Edward nod grimly. He still doesn't know why Edward makes some part of him shiver.


	6. The Informer Prelude

**Chapter ****6: The Informer (Prelude)**

"_The killer awoke before dawn, he put his boots on/ He took a face from the ancient gallery/ And he walked on down the hall"_

They returned to the small spring where Edward had been the day before. The clearing in the deep forest was sunlit. Edward undressed and washed himself in the water, using the soap Jasper had stolen. Jasper sat down on a moss-covered stump. Every now and then he glanced at Edward, an inquiring and thoughtful expression in his golden eyes, while he pulled the file with the printouts out of the backpack and began studying it. The file contained satellite maps of the area, lists with addresses and reports from different homepages. Edward didn't seem to be bothered with Jasper's looks and not the slightest bit nervous. He took his time.

"The executive will be the most difficult to punish." Jasper said calmly after several minutes. "Good resources… Highly developed weaponry… A lot of armed humans… We can't annihilate all of them. We gotta find out who the commanding officer was. He can be killed."

Edward grabbed for his boxers and put them on. Then he knelt down, lifted a flat stone off the ground and tossed it aside. "If God existed, I would beg him to destroy them all. But, you know, he does not." He laughed a dry, joyless laugh. "So I guess we must indeed settle for the officer." He picked up something dark red that had been concealed under the stone.

Jasper turned his eyes away from Edward's face and focused on the small item, "Maybe he exists… Not sure… What is that?"

Edward snorted bitterly, looked at Jasper with narrowed eyes and replied, his voice slightly agitated, "They say that God is benevolent. But if he is, why has he endorsed the humans that killed them? No benevolent god would cause us such pain." He took a deep, unnecessary breath, got up, went over to Jasper and held his open hand in front of his eyes.

Jasper shrugged slowly, examined the small packet of stiff fabric in Edward's hand and darted a questioning look at him. Edward nodded and he took the packet. "The blood on the fabric. It's your blood. Nutmeg and patchouly," Jasper said instantly, head tilted.

Edward blinked bemusedly, "What?"

Jasper started unwrapping the packet, answering slowly, "Your blood… you smell of nutmeg and patchouly." He contemplated the three deformed bullets and the small, black stone, in which something in the shape of a spiral was embedded. Therefore he didn't see the sharp glance that Edward cast at him. "What didya' keep 'em for?"

Edward grinned ferociously and self-deprecatingly at the same time, "They remind me of the holy oath I made. I swore that I would take revenge. Even if it cost me my life. They remind me of the ruthlessness of humans and how they do not deserve mercy." He picked up his black jeans and murmured, "And they remind me of them." He put the jeans on and added, shrugging lightly, "I do not know why I kept the stone. It was just there and looked strange."

Jasper watched him as he was speaking, his large, golden eyes attentive, then he examined the stone more thoroughly, "We both want to take revenge… That we've in common." He polished the stone with his thumb. "A fossil…"

"Just like us," Edward said with a strange grin. "So, how do we kill Jessica?"

Jasper returned the bullets and the stone, straightened his back and picked up the file he had laid in his lap. He looked like the major he had once been. "For a start, you gotta look at this. It's from last night. First page..." He handed the file over to Edward, who flipped it open. He saw a printout from the homepage of a local paper and started to read:

"At 7:13pm yesterday evening firefighters were called to the scene of a house fire in Forks. The home, owned by one of Forks most respected families, was burned to the ground. Firefighters at the scene reported that the cause of the fire is under investigation and that the cause was unknown. Later that evening, Department Chief Charles Bennett stated that although the fire appeared to be accidental, the investigation would continue. However, there is now speculation that the homeowners may have been members of some sort of questionable sect or cult and its relation cannot be ruled out at this time."

Edward stared grimly at the sheet and said, gnashing his teeth, "They have made us into members of a sect?"

Jasper nodded lightly, looked at Edward with calm eyes and said, "Perverting the facts is a normal procedure in case of war… Propaganda… The press gets their information from the authorities... and they tell them whatever's necessary to create the image they want."

Edward lifted his chin and returned Jaspers look, his eyes throwing sparks of fire. His voice trembled with suppressed rage, "So, the government is – at least partly – aware of our existence. But they do not want the population to know that we exist. Neither do they want them to know that _they_ know. That is the reason they made the fire look like an accident. And in case anyone has suspicions, they assert that our otherness is based on religious reasons." He dropped the file as if it were red hot, holding the bullets and the stone is his clenched fist.

Jasper nodded again and added, his slightly raspy voice quiet and composed, "I don't think that they could destroy all the evidence before the firefighters arrived… The bullets… The blood… Our house was far off the beaten track, but not far off enough… I think Charles Bennett's in the know. We'll call on him later."

Edward opened his hand, stared at the bullets and whispered in a flat voice, "No other vampire told us that the humans know. Oh, the humans are smart indeed. And stealthy. Who would have thought…"

Silence stretched over several minutes, while Edward stared at the bullets, transfixed. Jasper was looking at him without blinking. The birds sang, the soft wind brushed the tree tops and the spring purled quietly in the sunlight.

Jasper was the first to speak. "I've found out where Jessica lives. The house is in the middle of Forks. I've printed out a satellite map. Maybe the soldiers took her with them… She knows… But if she's still there, she probably thinks we're all dead. That's our strategic edge. We'll go tonight."

Edward blinked several times, nodded in agreement and pushed the bullets into the pocket of his jeans. But he was still holding the fossil in his right hand. Suddenly he whispered, his eyes glassy, "I miss them. So desperately I think I am going insane." He flashed a short glance at Jasper, who flinched barely visibly, and then knelt down, his feet and chest still bare. Slowly, Edward scraped the moss off of a flat stone that was almost circular and as wide as his splayed hand. "I am deeply sorry for you, because you did not have Carlisle when you were turned. Now I understand what that must have been like." He wiped bits of earth off the surface of the stone. "Sometimes I cursed him for having transformed me into a vampire, a joke. But he was an honorable man and his reasons for it were honorable, too. He wanted me to live. And if it is even possible to be a vampire to whom the term "morally good" applies, then you could be one in his presence. He was my conscience. And now that he is gone, it is gone too." His golden, yet glassy eyes glided over the stones that covered the ground around the spring, until they focused on a stone that was a little smaller than the one he had cleaned up.

"He knew… how to create order in chaos." Jasper murmured hesitantly, his eyes wide and turbulent.

"And Esme..." Edward's voice trembled "In the chaos, in our world of hunger and savagery, she was the fire in the hearth." He lifted the stone and placed it on the first. "And Rosalie and Emmett..." He picked up two other stones quickly, almost feverishly. "She knew beauty, she never lost it. Her passion… Her valor… His humor… His bravery… Their love…" He piled the stones on the other two. "And Alice…" The fossil fell on the ground and Edward buried his face in his hands, shaking, trembling violently on his knees.

The clearing was silent except for Edward's sobbing.

Jasper sat there and looked at Edward intently, his big, golden eyes displaying no emotion in this moment. Finally he rose, went over to Edward and knelt by his side. He picked a stone up off the ground blindly and placed it on the pile of stones carefully, almost tenderly. "And Alice…" he whispered, his voice raspier than before.

They knelt there for hours, silent, motionless, until the sun had long set. Then, Edward placed the fossil on the top of the tower of stones and they rose. They prepared themselves and left, heading for Forks.


	7. The Informer

**Chapter 7****: The Informer**

_(EPOV)_

I have heard people say that a requiem was beautiful. I do not know what that is supposed to imply. That the bouquets were well chosen? That the words of the priest were adequate? That the sky was so fittingly cloudy or that it was exactly the opposite?

Our requiem was not beautiful. I think it deepened the fractures that were already in our hearts and souls, because it reminded us of them. But it also would have been treachery not to honor them in this way. It was necessary. If I had not been preoccupied with my wordless pain, I would have been surprised that Jasper partook in the requiem. I thought that the memories I had evoked would banish him into the depths of Never Never Land. But he stayed at my side. Perhaps I would have knelt there on the clearing for all eternity had he not been there. But we shared the grief. I was not alone.

I had felt his questioning eyes on me as I had cleaned myself before our requiem. And it had made me tense and nervous. And it had sent shivers down my spine. And the intensity of my feelings had scared me. But I had not wanted him to notice. We vampires are very good at disguising and masking.

I did not want him to know that I had these confusing feelings towards him for numerous reasons. I am sure you can imagine these reasons, but I want to be sure that you can follow my little story, so I will explain myself. The first reason was related to my Ego. It was devastating enough that I had fallen for Jasper. For the very same Jasper who I had known for some years by then. For the Jasper who had been no more to me than one companion amongst many who shared this ulterior and eternal life with me. For the Jasper who had been Alice's soul mate. For the Jasper who had gone mad. For the Jasper who wanted to kill me someday. For the Jasper who – and this being just a minor detail to me – was a man. I was so confused. I did not even know what it exactly it was that I felt or wanted. And I still could not understand why I had these feelings towards him. Due to the fact that I did not believe in destiny, but in causality, I knew there had to be reasons why I felt the way I felt. But I just could not detect them. As I told you before, we cannot repress and deny. So it was time-consuming and complicated enough to comprehend even my own motives, let alone the things that were going on in his mind. If he had known how I felt, it would have become even more complicated. And therefore – or so I thought – I would have never been able to restore order to the chaos in my head. So, there you are: First reason. Second reason: I have my pride. He wanted to kill me. Naturally, I did not want somebody who despised me so dearly to know that I was – yes, damn it – in love with him. A declaration of love always leaves you vulnerable. And even if I had told him how I felt, he surely would have rejected me. I could not imagine him falling for me. The third reason was my concern for him. He had gone mad. He was suffering so badly that I could almost hear his soul cry out in pain and agony. I did not want to cause more disorder in his mind.

Human scientists – psychologists, neurologists and especially parapsychologists – have researched the possibility of telepathy and empathy. I am sure that their research would achieve a whole new level, if Jasper or I fell into their clutches. But I am not the least interested in their work, nor have I ever concerned myself with their scientific fruits. And it does not matter, because I just had discovered the ability to shut my telephathy off. I no longer wanted him to sense my emotions. And I did not want to know his thoughts either. I did not want to hear how much he hated me or how he intended to kill me someday. When I listened to his mind, I realized the extent of his madness and I just could not endure this horror any longer. So I established a shield in my mind. It was exhausting, because I had to maintain my self-control at all times. _Not_ listening is the difficulty for a telepath. And though it was tempting at times to delve into his thoughts, I actually found myself afraid to hear any more of what went on in his mind. I'd had enough surprises already. Hence I did not know what to make of the fact that he knew my smell so well.

We took off in the middle of the night, leaving behind the backpack and our grief so we carried no dispensable and obstructive luggage.

Forks is a quiet little town. And it was quiet that night, too. Everything was the same as always. As if they had not been murdered the night before. When your whole world has gone to pieces, you somehow expect the outside world to react accordingly. But it never does. Nobody cares. The world does not stop turning. That makes it even worse.

Jasper moved like a ghost at my side. Completely silent, blank faced, but heading for our destination inexorably. Jessica's house sat quiet and dark. The hoard of evil was a simple one-storied house with a garage, a concreted drive and a small front yard with a white picket fence. Rather ordinary. As we approached the house, concealing ourselves in the shadows, I grinned madly, which earned me another questioning look from Jasper. As we stopped in the cover of a tree, I shrugged shortly to signal him that he did not need to worry, and then I scanned the façade of the house for open windows. There were none, but that was not really an obstacle for us. Jasper looked at the house and at its surroundings intently and when I turned my eyes to him, he pointed at the side of the house that was not lit by the moon or the outdoor lights. Obviously he had detected a weak spot. He peeled away from the cover, climbed over the fence and sneaked through the yard. Everything completely soundlessly. I followed his lead. We scaled the side of the house easily, until we reached a dark window. You have your weapons, but unfortunately you have to bend to the laws of gravity. Fortunately, it works differently with us. Holding on to the façade, we peeked inside the house. The window Jasper had chosen was suitable for breaking into the house, because it belonged to a dark, deserted corridor. It was a vertical sliding sash window, secured by a fitch catch. Again: No obstacle. I clawed my fingernails in the bottom rail and pushed the bottom sash up slowly but forcefully. The wooden rail around the fitch catch broke with a low noise and I opened the window. We slid inside the corridor. A stairway led down to the first floor and there were three doors. It was quite obvious which the door to Jessica's room was, because it had a light blue sign on it which said "Jessica's domain". How convenient. While I kept watch, Jasper opened the door slowly and entered the room.

_(JPOV)_

He thinks that the room looks similar to the room of the boy in Beaver, only the colors are different. Brownish colors prevailed in the room in Beaver, whereas in this room pastel shades of blue and pink dominate. But in both were and are posters, a computer, few books and a bed with a sleeping teen. He tilts his head and contemplates the girl. She lies on the side, her dark brown, curly hair is spread on the pillow. A blanket covers her body up to her shoulders. Her breath is deep and regular. _Peaceful. Unrepentant._ He sneaks to the side of the bed. A ghost with honey-colored hair, softly glowing, golden eyes and a bloodstained cashmere pullover. He looks down on her. He knows he will sense it if she wakes up. And so he takes his time to study her features. Her face is soft and attractive. She looks innocent. But he knows that everybody does in sleep. He squats down and leans forward until his nose is nearly touching hers. _Your face doesn't deceive me, little girl._ Then he sinks his teeth in her cervical artery and firmly covers her mouth with his hand. He notices that she wakes up. She is terrified and tries to scream. _Too late._ She winces in panic, so he wraps his arm around her and holds her still. He has to concentrate on Alice's face so that Jessica's overwhelming fear doesn't stop him from continuing. _Alice, she's the informer. She has killed you. Her fault._ _Her fault. Her fault._ Her blood is so sweet. Not one drop escapes his lips. He drinks 'til her movements die and it is very difficult for him to not kill her. But he still focuses on Alice's face and so he manages to stop drinking. Then he stands up and presses her unconscious and limp body against his chest. Her head tilts back and bares the four small, precise holes in her throat. He looks at these holes. It makes him feel strange. _Her fault._ _Her fault. Her fault._ He leaves the room with her in his arms, glances at Edward, who returns his look with a grim expression, and whispers, "Pack a bag with some of her clothes. Hurry! We meet outside." Edward nods briefly and goes inside the room. Jasper has entered the house through the window, but he leaves through the front door.


	8. Beauty And A Case Of Death

**Hey everyone! Thank you very much for reading, reviewing and adding my story to your watch list or even to the list of your favorite stories. I'm honestly flattered. So please, don't stop.**

**There is a lot of violence in this chapter. Just so that you are warned.**

**Chapter 8****: Beauty And A Case Of Death** _(EPOV)_

Nobody saw us when we abducted Jessica. Forks was sound asleep. And Jessica was deeply unconscious due to the blood loss she had suffered. A considerable part of the precious liquid was now circulating through Jasper's body. His eyes were red as he carried her out of the town and deep into Olympic National Park. I walked by his side and while I beheld his strangely unmoved and calm features, I suddenly realized – to my dismay – that I found him painfully beautiful. Damn it, no. According to every generally accepted standard, he was a good-looking man. I had known that from the first moment I saw him. His big eyes, his broad mouth, the distinct line of his jaw. Of course he was attractive. But to me, he was more than that. He was incredibly and insanely beautiful. You know, your perception of a person's outward appearance changes after you have been intimate with him or her. Maybe I had actually found him more than neutrally attractive before we had… I do not know how to say it… "sex" seems like an understatement, "fucked" is too vulgar and "made love" does not apply at all. But you had not been there to judge, therefore I will just use the term "sex". I do not know if my perception of his appearance had already changed before we had "sex", but I can definitely say that the sight of him towering above me, illuminated by the silvery light of the moon, has influenced my perception.

"Beauty" is a very difficult concept to grasp. Many people have reflected on it. You have this saying, "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder". And I have to agree for a change. Some weird, financially interested plastic surgeons try to convince the world that beauty can be calculated mathematically. For example, that the distance from the hairline to the eyebrows should equal the distance from the eyebrows to the tip of the nose. And if that does not apply, then a person is not beautiful. I do not believe in that. I think that there might be generally accepted standards as to the question of good looks, but they change. I was there. But you cannot use the term "beautiful" in this context. "Beauty" is an absolute term, but it still lies in the eye of the beholder. I know that might sound paradox. But think about it. Perhaps the proportions of the face of the woman you love are not right. And perhaps she does not look good right after she wakes up. Her hair might be messy, she might have dark circles around her eyes, but you would still say that she is beautiful. That is because every time you look at her, you see your mutual past, your presence and your future. You remember how she makes you feel. "Good looks" is a hollow expression. But "beauty" is full of meaning. And the term gains its meaning only through an individual. I was the individual, the beholder, and now Jasper was beautiful to me. Every time I looked at him, I remembered how he had made me feel the day before, what emotions he had roused in me. I saw the insane beauty of his uncompromising dolor and recognized the passion behind it. I saw the major he had once been. I remembered him saying that I smell of nutmeg and patchouly. I recalled that he referred to the moon as "Father Moon". All that and much more made him beautiful in my eyes. But I thought that I could never have this beauty. My longing was so strong it hurt.

Jessica's low moan pulled me out of my train of thought. She regained consciousness just as Jasper laid her down on a patch of moss. He had probably sensed that she would wake up soon. Dawn was about to break. I put the bag down and crouched on one side of her, while Jasper did the same on the other. Two angels of death. She looked like the average good-looking high school girl wearing an average pink "Hello Kitty" nightgown. But the place in which she found herself as she blinked dizzily was not at all average. "Wh- what..." she stammered, trembling as she saw us. Her eyes widened in panic and she tried to sit up, but Jasper held her down calmly by pressing one hand on her right collarbone. His red eyes pierced through her and his jaw muscle flexed slightly. That was the only sign that he was about to lose his composure. She immediately started screaming hysterically and tried to push Jasper's hand away with uncoordinated, weak movements. To no avail. Nobody was there to hear her screams, except us. So I let her scream until her voice broke down. Though I had cut off the mental connection between Jasper and I, I knew that I was designated to talk to this girl. So I leaned forward. "Jessica," I whispered "you arranged for the murder of our family. I know you are hoarse and frightened, but this will be your only chance to defend yourself. So speak." I sat up again and looked at her. I was about to lose all self-control myself. It was a disturbing scene. And I knew it was insanity. I clenched my fists. Different emotions fought for dominion in my heart. I hated her. I pitied her. I was sad. I wanted to kill her immediately. I wanted to let her go. I had believed that my conscience was gone, but obviously it was not.

Jessica took a few frantic breaths, while she looked from me to Jasper and back. She looked like she still could not believe what happened to her, like she would pass out again. But she did not. She knew that this was serious, that her life was jeopardized. "I… I…" She started crying. I heard Jasper's teeth grit and glanced at him. His teeth were bared, his red eyes sparked and he hissed with a voice that no longer sounded human, "Talk. Now." Jessica's body was shaking violently, her eyes gaped in horror, but she managed to splutter, "I was afraid... of you. I panicked. You're not human, you're vampires. I…"

She could never finish her sentence, because Jasper lunged at her abruptly. He sank his teeth in her throat, snarling inhumanly, pinning her down without mercy. Her limbs twitched violently. I will never forget her cry. I was not sure what had triggered his attack, though I was not surprised. But his conduct and the sight unleashed the beast inside me. I heard myself growl while I stared at Jasper. But I did not move. Finally he jerked his head back. Blood was dripping from his lips onto her dead body, he snarled wildly, then gave a feral shout of triumph. And in the light of the rising sun, which made his beautiful face sparkle, he looked at me with glowing eyes, bared teeth, grabbed me by the neck, pulled me up to him and crashed his lips brutally against mine.

**The Vampire Who Quotes Shakespeare** _(JPOV)_

His lips connect with Edward's. His front teeth collide with Edward's. It hurts. But it's good. His tongue invades Edward's open mouth, touches his tongue, tastes his palate. Jessica's blood pulses through his body. Everything in him roars with wild passion and wrath. The murder provoked the beast. And now it growls and bares its teeth. _Jealousy and spurned interest._ Those were the true reasons for her actions. She was too smart and too frightened to tell them, but he saw through her. _Jealousy and spurned interest._ _Petty reasons._ _She earned her death well._ He stares into Edward's golden eyes, which are merely two inches away from his. They're wide, glowing with an indistinguishable fire. He grips Edward's neck harder, pulls him even closer. So close, Edward has to support himself on the ground with one hand to prevent himself from falling onto Jessica's dead body. Edward groans but it's not clear if it's distress or passion that causes it. But Jasper doesn't care. The beast has no appreciation of opposition or civilization. He bites Edward's lower lip. He tastes Jessica's and Edward's blood and feels Edward's tongue trying to catch some of the flavor, too. The kiss is pure, brutal passion, a blinding beam of light. He tilts his head so that he's able to deepen the kiss.

He hears a low voice whisper in his mind. But it's not till Edward groans again that he listens. _Why does he groan? Why doesn't he fight me?_ He wants to know, he has to know, and so he tries to sense what Edward feels. Still nothing. It's as if he's not even there. It makes him nervous and a little bit aggressive. _What does he try to hide?_ He growls, tells the voice to be quiet and bites Edward's lip harder. He tugs at the back of his shirt. He wants to feel Edward's naked skin against his.

"Well, well, well, look who are having themselves an after-murder-party. Utterly charming, indeed." The melodic baritone voice causes them both to flinch in surprise. Jasper stops assaulting Edward's lips and turns his head quickly to identify the source of the voice. A man is sitting on a small boulder, his legs casually crossed. His golden eyes, which examine them with both interest and boredom, tell Jasper that this man is a vampire, so he lets go of Edward's neck. He can't defend himself or Edward while his hands are occupied. He never loses sight of the man as he gets to his feet and positions himself in front of Edward, who rises, too. The other vampire doesn't seem she slightest bit nervous or unconfident. A light grin plays about his full lips and he brushes a strand of his ash blonde, flat, shoulder-length hair back with a fluid, carefree movement of his nimble-fingered hand. The man and Edward are silent at the moment, which gives him the opportunity to look at the man more thoroughly.

The proportions of his body are odd and his choice of clothing only emphasizes this. His whole spindly body seems to consist only of long legs, which he has wrapped in black leather pants. The upper part of his body is dressed in an anthracite-colored, close-fitting long sleeve top, which accentuates his sinewy arms. Jasper guesses he is 6′5″, too large in comparison with his slender frame. Jasper thinks he is reminiscent of a spider, but not necessarily in a bad way, because his movements are fluid and nonchalant and his face is unbelievably and heavenly beautiful. His cheekbones are high and sharp, his jaw line is distinct, his lips are full, his nose is narrow and perfectly straight, his blonde eyebrows seem to be drawn by Michelangelo and his eyes are piercing.

"Oh boys, not interested in a conversation?" His deep voice sounds slightly foreign, but Jasper isn't able to localize the accent yet. "Sad, very sad. I came all the way just for you two. And now you force me to soliloquize. Very rude indeed. Oh well…" He raises his right hand, the tips of his fingers pointed upwards, and looks at it with dramatically lifted eyebrows. "Alas, poor Yorick, Edward Cullen and Jasper Hale are celebrating the after-murder-party! Seemingly a very joyous event. Blood and kisses atop her not-yet-cold body. Thus conscience does make cowards of us all! Yet not of these young gentlemen. Aye, Yorick, they overcame this troublesome manacle. Free they are from qualms and doubts. Joy, oh joy!" Still standing behind Jasper, Edward murmurs incredulously "Shakespeare?" while the man continues, his head tilted, as if he were listening to someone: "Aye, Yorick, how right thou art! They may have forgotten their manners, but I shall not follow suit." He stands up, turns his piercing golden eyes to him and Edward and bows elegantly, his hand still raised. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Victor. Victor von Leidenfrost."

Finally Edward takes one step forward, so that he is standing next to Jasper, and straightens his back. "What are you doing here, sir?" His voice sounds slightly uncertain, so Jasper assumes that Edward is just as bewildered by the behavior of the man as he is.

The man – Victor – straightens up again, looks at his raised hand, declaims "Thus ends our relationship, poor Yorick!" and pretends to toss away the nonexistent item in his hand.

Jasper wishes that Edward would step back behind him. He doesn't know what Victor wants or if he's peaceful. He tried to sense Victor's motives while he was speaking to nonexistent Yorick, but the man is as unreadable as Edward. So he has to rely on his experience. And his experience tells him that he doesn't want to fight Victor. _Confident body language. Didn't even look at us while he soliloquized. Powerful. Old._ Victor is a very dangerous man.

"I'm here," Victor says with an amused tone to his melodic voice, "because of our recent, I'm not sure how to put it, let's say masquerade problem. It seems as if you, fair Edward, have told a young maiden about your true identity. And this maiden has told another. 'Twas her, I assume." He gestures laxly in the direction of Jessica's body. "And this maiden in turn has told a government agency. And this agency has sent out forces to eliminate the problem. By the way, the agency is called Agency for Supernatural Existence. Quite boring I dare say."

"So you are here to help us, sir?" Edward asks, still cautious and confused.

"Aye, you may put it that way, fair Edward. But on the other hand you could also say that I'm here to supervise you. You're so young and fickle," he makes a dismissive gesture. "We're a tiny bit concerned that you might cause us trouble. More trouble, of course, since you've already produced quite a bit." Suddenly his golden eyes bore into Edward's and his voice is sharp-edged and cold as he adds, "One might say that you have murdered your family by telling your secret. But it's not for me to decide. Yet we all agreed that your trip down honesty lane has put all of us in peril. So you could also say that I'm here to clean up your mess. Maybe you will be punished for your deeds. But as long as that isn't decided, you will behave cautiously and reasonably. Is that understood, boy?"

Jasper doesn't like the way the man talks to Edward, but he knows he has to contain himself as long as he doesn't want to fight him. And so he just stares at Victor and flexes his jaw muscles. Out of the corner of his eyes he sees that Edward lowers his head. "Yes, sir, it is," he says with a trembling voice. "May I ask," he adds quietly after a short pause, "to whom you are referring when you use the word "we"?"

Victor quirks his blonde eyebrow, smiles slightly and answers, his voice melodic again, "Of course you can, fair Edward. But I'm afraid we have no time to discuss this topic now. Believe me when I say that it is a complex one." He claps his hands once and makes an inviting gesture. "Dispose of the body. Then we'll pay a visit to the other maiden."

Jasper turns his eyes on Edward. His head is still lowered, his back slightly bent over, his eyes are closed. He looks defeated. The beast in Jasper is silent again. But despite its silence and the presence of the man, he still wants to touch Edward. He reaches out slowly and runs his fingers through Edward's bronze, messy hair. He flinches in surprise and looks up. Their gazes meet. Jasper ignores the piercing eyes of Victor which are watching them intently and smiles slightly. "It was not your fault, Edward." His voice is clear and composed. "Let's get rid of the body." Edward returns the smile, but his is bitter and sarcastic, then he nods resolutely.

**Disclaimer: At least Victor is my own. **


	9. The Strangest Power

Finishing this chapter was a lot of work and it took me almost half a year. Therefore reviews would be especially great!

Dear Kristen, you're my angel from beta-heaven!

**Chapter 9: The Strangest Power**

_EPOV_

I heard Jasper as he told me that it was not my fault. But as pathetic as it sounds, my heart did not listen. Until this moment, I had not really thought about my part in the events that had led to their death. Yes, I had pondered the chain of events itself, as you may remember, but I had not considered that I might be the one to blame. The agony of the loss, the elation of the fact that Jasper lived and that I was not alone, the confusion that had been caused by my feelings towards him, the will for revenge; everything had prevented me from breeding this thought. But one sentence from this Shakespeare-quoting, unbearably sarcastic, inconceivably snobby, deathly-looking, angelic-like vampire had broken this merciful spell. And now I was devastated. While I walked behind Jasper, who carried Jessica's body in his arms, I touched my injured lower lip absently, wiping away some blood, and thought about my guilt. I had told Bella about my true identity. I finally had to admit that this had been the point of origin for the chain of events. No, I had not been the butterfly. I had caused their death.

Of all the powers on earth, love is the strangest one. It is so strange that even great philosophers and writers cannot agree on a definition. Allow me to give you some examples:

Eric Fromm – a German philosopher – says that "love is the only sane and satisfactory answer to the problem of human existence", which basically means – at least in my understanding – that the purpose of a human is to love and be loved. Love is the reason for the human existence. Furthermore, love enables you to overcome human seemingly senseless problems like death, pain and suffering.

William Somerset Maugham – an English writer – has – to put it mildly – a slightly different opinion. He writes that "love is only a dirty trick played on us to achieve continuation of the species". To phrase it more accurately: Humans just think that they are in love, but this feeling is nothing more than a chemical reaction in the body that brings you to have sex and therefore children.

Now tell me: On which quote do you agree more? Which, do you think, is nearer to the truth – assuming there is one?

Well, if you have picked the second one, you are clearly wrong. I tell you why by deducing it logically:

Premise a) Vampires can and do love (I am the proof).

Premise b) Vampires do not reproduce by having sex (that should be common sense).

Premise c) The feelings of vampires can be compared to yours (at least when love is concerned).

Conclusion: Love cannot be a trick to achieve continuation of the species.

However, there might be some fruitful aspects to this definition. I will come back to that in a moment.

It is more complicated with Fromm's approach. I am tempted to say that he might be right – at least when it comes to humans. I indeed think that love helps you deal with the problems of your being and the fact that you will never even begin to comprehend the essence of your existence. To phrase it in a non-lunatic way: It helps you forget that you will never know what your existence is all about. The definition applies with reservations also to vampires. Each and every vampire will ask questions about his existence at some point in time. I am no exception. Quite the contrary, it felt like I did not stop to ask these questions for one second. And I think that love is a satisfactory answer to these questions for vampires as well. Maybe the essence of our existence is to love someone for all eternity.

However it is not a sane answer. Vampiric answers of this kind are never sane. They always hold the promise of blind and utter bestiality – and bestiality is not sane.

But Fromm's definition is only valid for the love between two vampires. That had been my mistake, my guilt. I had forgotten that it does not apply to the love between a vampire and a human. See, that is the point where Maugham's answer is useful: Love is only a dirty trick played on us to make us believe that we are still human, that time does exist. Our strange physiognomy falls for the blood, not for the person. Some blood tastes better to us than other. So we think we are in love. Do not ask me why.

I had believed that I was in love with a human and – more important – I had acted on this belief. I should have known that it was not true and that insanity would always take its toll. Everything had been my fault.

There are many good places in the Olympic National Park where you can hide a corpse. Both Jasper and I knew that the sea was not one of them. A sunken corpse can surface again, the tides can wash it against the next shore where an innocent, unsuspecting fisherman finds it. However in the depth of the woods nobody will find it. All the miles of green simply swallow it. Jasper directed his steps accordingly, but he moved deliberately like there was no powerful vampire waiting for our return. Since I did not care either, I walked behind him like a somnambulist, carrying the bag with Jessica's clothes.

We did not speak a word. I had a lot to ponder and I was certain that there was quite an amount of thinking going on in his mind. However, since I still fought my natural impulse to read his mind, I did not know these thoughts, but I assumed they were still as strange and disturbing as they had been.

The sun had ascended completely when Jasper halted in a small, leaf-covered hollow. He laid Jessica's body down in a surprisingly gentle way and looked up, still crouched down. A thick roof of green covered the hollow, so that you could merely see a few spots of the sky, which in reverse meant that no helicopter pilot would see anything suspicious here.

"This is a good place." he stated. He glanced at the corpse, then he turned his red eyes to me. "It ain't right to just leave her here for the animals to feed on. We gotta dig a grave." He sounded almost reluctant, which I understood completely. She had been the informer, the one who had called the executive, but she had still been a human being. And Carlisle had told us that humans are precious by the essence of their nature – sometimes I think we understand your existence better than you do – regardless of their sins. After all that had taken place, I was not completely convinced anymore that this was the truth, yet at this point I was not poised to ignore Carlisle's teachings.

So I nodded. "I agree." Then I knelt down beside Jasper and pulled the grey long-sleeve shirt that Jasper got me over my head so that I would not get filthy – a pointless action considering that the shirt was stained with blood. Jasper just started digging with his bare hands, not caring for his cashmere pullover whose front was nearly completely covered with Jessica's dried blood. Since vampires do not tire and we both had had enough blood to work with our full strength, the hole in the ground became deeper every second. It did not take us long to get six feet under. Finally, Jasper picked up Jessica's body, jumped effortlessly down into the hole and placed her on the ground. After he had climbed back out and I had put Jessica's bag next to her, we filled the hole with earth. We did not say a word. She had been a human, but since she had caused us so much pain, she had not earned the honor of a requiem.

After we had covered the grave with leaves, Jasper sat up and looked at me. The dirt and blood on his face and hair, the unsettled expression in his eyes made him resemble a soldier that had just emerged from a dugout – which was not very far from the truth. And he flattened his pullover with his hands like an upright soldier would.

"Victor… is dangerous." His words came out unsteadily, still displaying the deep tears in his mind. "He's not here to assist us, he's here to command us. Our well-being is not his focus. He'll kill us if we jeopardize his objective." He nodded as if he wanted to approve his own words.

"I know," I responded, "I am not even certain that he told us the truth. There might be additional or even different motives to his presence here." I smiled joylessly. "European vampires tend to weave nets of intrigues." I picked up my shirt and put it back on. "However I do believe that he wants to clear up the situation." The situation I had caused. I rubbed my forehead.

Jasper folded his arms behind his back and pursued me with his big, intense eyes. "I recommend we try to elicit as much from him as possible and sit still 'til we know more 'bout him. That means we gotta do what he wants 'til we know what we're up against."

I sighed. "I do not like this at all, but I consent."

There was a moment of silence in which he continued his staring. Then he cocked his head slightly and took two steps forward until he stood directly in front of me, merely a foot away. Despite the dirt and gore, the beauty of the expression of his face – incomprehension with a hint of curiosity and compassion – succeeded in piercing through the guilt and pain in my mind. "Ya don't really believe in what he said, do ya?"

"Of course I do. He is right. I allowed Bella to discover us. I told her about our existence. If I had not done so, none of these events would have taken place. They would still be alive." I closed my eyes and bowed my head. The pain of my guilt weighed so heavily on me that I almost could not sustain my composure. I wanted to hurt myself. I wanted to make myself pay for what I did. I wanted to suffer. My craving was so strong that I almost forgot my oath.

He did not answer immediately, but when he did, he sounded absent-minded. "Alice told me once that ya have a compulsion to control, that ya can't let go. She said you ignore that people have a free will so that you can believe that you can pull all the strings. She was right, alright."

I opened my eyes. "But I forgot that a vampire cannot love a human… that it is all a trick."

"I'm not sure whatcha mean by "trick", but it doesn't matter 'cause your wrong." His eyes focused in on me and he added firmly, "Vampires can love humans. They do it all the time and it even works sometimes. In which world have you lived since you've become a vampire?" And – to my complete and incredulous surprise – his lips formed into a hint of a smile.

I did not know what to reply, but I noticed that I felt a little better… not much, but a little. Maybe there was some truth to his words, but I was not ready to agree to them. Finally I just managed to say "Thank you."

Meanwhile the hint had disappeared again and he just nodded and blinked confusedly. "We gotta go back." And he turned around and started walking without further ado.

In this moment, I almost lowered the guard in my mind, because there was one thing I did not understand: Why did he try to soothe my guilt if he hated me so much that he wanted to kill me someday?

And I wanted to confirm a suspicion that I had: Maybe he did not hate me anymore. Maybe he had pardoned me.

However, I did not act on my impulse. If I would have read his mind, he would have been able to sense my feelings and I did not want him to know that I loved him. I was afraid of the potential possibilities. I was afraid that he would be repelled by my feelings. I was afraid that he would leave me. I was afraid that I would be alone again. I did not think for one moment that my feelings could be mutual.

Of all the powers on earth, love is the strangest one.


End file.
